


For everyone but you.

by ilostmyothersock



Series: With the tide. [4]
Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-09
Updated: 2020-08-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25795462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilostmyothersock/pseuds/ilostmyothersock
Summary: Nicky takes care of everyone, except sometimes himself.TW: mentions of disordered eating/skipping meals/poor coping mechanisms, alcohol, blood, (temporary) death, vomit.
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Series: With the tide. [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1884397
Comments: 35
Kudos: 817





	For everyone but you.

**Author's Note:**

> TW in the summary. On tumblr under the same name.

It hasn’t even been a year since they had parted when Copley contacts them to tell them that Booker has gotten into a bit of trouble.

And by “a bit of trouble,” he means that Booker has been taken.

Evan as Joe half-heartedly complains about going to help him (Nile doesn’t really think he would leave Booker to suffer, but she does understand that the wound is still fresh, especially for people who have lived hundreds of years), saying that Booker had gotten _them_ kidnapped for scientific experimentation, Nicky is quickly collecting their things. He packs weapons, food, spare clothes, and extra ammo in the time that it takes Nile to grab her gun and backpack, for Joe to put up a token protest, and for Andy to roll her eyes in exasperation at all of them while listening to Copley give them information on where to find Booker.

Joe goes silent with one pointed look from Nicky, and they are on their way.

\---

They get him out.

It is a disaster, but they get him out, and for better or for worse Booker is back with them, trailing after them awkwardly during their hurried getaway back to their stashed car, and getting in when no one protests. The trip to their next safe house is silent. Nile absently picks at dried blood on her jeans as Andy drives without saying a word, Booker wrings his hands anxiously every few minutes, and Joe holds Nicky tucked up against his side in the back seat, running his fingers carefully through Nicky’s bloody, matted hair. At one point Nicky reaches over to Nile who is leaning against the other car door. She straightens with a frown, her mouth open in a question, but Nicky just smiles gently at her, pulling away from Joe momentarily to pick a few bits of... something... from her hair (Nile deliberately avoids spending time thinking about what it might be).

When they arrive at the safe house Nicky gives Booker a small smile, squeezing his shoulder gently, and nothing is said on the matter of Booker’s exile being over 99 years early. 

As Andy leads the way into their newest home, unlocking the door with a key unearthed from the garden, Nicky follows closely behind her. As they enter the cottage he pulls bags from their tired shoulders, pushes Andy to sit at the kitchen table, and presses towels and old, but clean, clothes into Nile, Booker, and Joe’s hands. His hands full, Joe brushes a kiss to Nicky’s forehead before leading Nile to the bathroom and letting her have the first shower. Booker mumbles something about a well out back before wandering off.

When Nile emerges, towelling off her hair and dressed in an old t-shirt and sweatpants that she suspects are either Joe’s or Nicky’s (or both, because she actually isn’t sure which items belong to who most of the time, they wear most things so interchangeably), Joe gives her a gentle smile from where he is leaning against the wall, before moving to take his turn in the bathroom. She suspects her shower was rather long, but he doesn’t seem upset.

After hanging what could be salvaged and washed from her outfit of the day to dry, she makes her way back to the kitchen. There is something that smells heavenly simmering on the stove, and Nicky is crouched in front of Andy, gently covering up a few last cuts with nimble fingers. Nile sees that the larger wounds have already been covered, possibly stitched, and as he finishes the last one Andy cups his face in her hand, running her thumb over some flaking, dried blood with a soft smile, gratitude in her eyes.

Nicky looks up, beaming at Nile before moving to usher her into a seat as Andy heads off to shower. He serves her a generous helping of dinner before placing it in front of her, patting her on the shoulder with a gentle instruction to eat.

She does, gratefully (Nicky really is a fantastic cook), and she is on her second helping by the time Booker makes his way back into the kitchen, hair still damp but blood-free, wearing a shirt that’s stretched a little too tightly across his shoulders

“I think this shirt is yours, Nicky,” he mumbles. “Or maybe Joe’s. Did I not leave anything of mine here?” He glances at Nile. “I’ll go out to get some stuff for me and Nile later.”

Nicky shrugs, placing a bowl in front of Booker. He puts another two out just as Joe comes back from the shower - one for Joe, and one at Andy’s momentarily abandoned seat.

Nile doesn’t mind the clothes. They’re soft and worn and comfortable, and exactly what she needed after a day like the one they just had. The stew is fresh and delicious and fills her with a warmth that goes beyond the physical heat as it fills her stomach. Nicky is setting a mug of tea beside her bowl, fragrant and with just the right amount of honey, and she realizes that she feels completely, utterly _safe_.

This is home now.

Not this little cottage in particular, not the apartment in Paris, not the church, not the old mine, and not any of the flats or basements or abandoned caves in between, but here, with these people.

With Andy, coming back into the kitchen with the blood finally washed off, taking a seat at the table and squeezing Nicky’s hand in thanks as he puts her tea in front of her

With Joe, gratefully digging into his meal, leaning back with a contented sigh at the first taste before turning back to it with gusto, peppering Nicky with compliments that make Nicky roll his eyes but blush all the same.

Even with Booker and how, after a few strained moments when they first reunited, he seems to have slotted back in as if he’d never left.

She’s content, and getting very sleepy, she realizes. She gets up, picking up her dishes to wash them, but Nicky is there, taking them from her with a small smile, telling her that he’ll take care of it, and ushering her off to bed.

She goes willingly. Cots have been set up in a room just off from the kitchen. She hasn’t been to this particular house before, but there are four of them, and since Joe and Nicky always share she supposes someone, probably Nicky, must have just set these up as well. The room may be new but the bed arrangement is familiar, so she takes her usual place, noting that the place that was Booker’s when she first met them, and which has been conspicuously empty over the past few months, has been laid out again.

She doesn’t bother closing the door, preferring to let a little bit of light filter in from where it is partially open, and relaxing as she lets their muted chatter wash over her. Their muffled conversation is interspersed with the clinking of ceramic as Nicky washes and dries their dishes.

She’s almost asleep when the conversation takes on a concerned tone, and she can’t help but blink back into awareness. She focuses a little just as Joe’s voice raises just enough for her to hear the words.

“ _You haven’t showered._ ”

Nile frowns. What? She did, Joe did, Booker did, Andy did... oh. Nicky. Nicky was cooking. She’d been so exhausted she hadn’t really noticed, but now that she thinks back on it she does recall Nicky’s hair still being caked with blood, his shirt stained red and riddled with bullet-holes.

“Did you even eat?”

Nicky answers softly in Italian. Nile doesn’t make out the words, but Joe’s heavy sigh makes it clear what the response was. She’s completely awake now, and she thinks back to their dinner.

He had put out four meals, she realizes. She hadn’t paid attention to it at the time, but he hadn’t set one out for himself. He hadn’t even sat down with them, bustling about the kitchen instead, serving them firsts and seconds, making them tea, pausing to squeeze her shoulder reassuringly, to check Andy’s wounds after her shower, making sure her stitches were kept dry, to press a kiss to Joe’s hair, to coax Booker into conversation.

He must have been exhausted, but he’d taken care of them all with a reassuring smile on his face, with kind words and gentle touches and hearty food.

Through the half-open door she watches as Andy puts a hand on Nicky’s shoulder, turning him away from the sink and moving to take over the last of the washing. She sees the concerned glint in Joe’s eyes as he puts an arm around Nicky, leading him away, presumably to the bathroom.

Booker has pulled out a flask. After several swigs from it he sets it down and looks up at Andy. Her back is still turned to him, but her hands are resting on the counter, the dishes finished.

“How is he?”

Andy shakes her head gently, turning around to face him with a shrug.

“I mean... how have you _all_ been?”

“We dealt with it.”

She doesn’t say with _what_ , but Nile supposes she means _everything_. Booker’s betrayal and ensuing absence, her addition to the team, Andy’s mortality.

“And Nicky?”

There’s concern there that Nile doesn’t know how to interpret.

“He’s... alright.”

Silence, for a moment. Nile can see that Andy has sat down across from Booker. She makes a brief movement before pausing, and then tentatively reaches across the table to take his hand.

“And you, Booker?”

Booker shrugs. Andy nods, seeming to understand (Nile doesn’t). Booker holds his flask out to her and she takes it gratefully, taking a long drink.

They pass it back and forth a few times before Booker shakes it. It makes a hollow sound as he puts it back on the table, and he gets up to rummage through a cupboard. He returns to the table with a bottle.

Andy raises an eyebrow. “And you knew that was there... how?”

Booker shrugs. “I left it there, a few years ago.” Andy snorts.

It is at that moment that Joe leads Nicky back into the kitchen, an arm around his waist. He pushes him gently into a seat before going to the leftover stew and making to serve him a bowl.

“ _Yusuf._ ”

Nicky’s voice is pleading. Andy frowns. Nile wonders if she’ll be able to fall asleep after this. She can feel their concern, can feel their stress, but she doesn’t know what’s causing it. She probably shouldn’t be listening in, but her options are to fall asleep (which she doesn’t think she’ll be able to do anytime soon) or to leave, and if she gets up now they’ll know she’s been listening. So, she stays quiet, trying to retreat back into the drowsiness she’d been enjoying.

“Just a little, Nicolò my love?”

Nicky is clearly uncomfortable, his shoulders a tense line and his hands clasped tightly together.

“Nicky, please?” Andy’s voice is pleading. Even Booker has a strangely gentle look on his face.

Nicky sighs, scrubbing at his face with his hands.

“ _I can’t, please don’t make me._ ” he says in Italian.

Nile spares a moment to be proud that she understood, quick and quiet as the admission was. Nicky is a good (and very patient) teacher. Then the words hit her. He can’t?

Joe sits down in the chair beside Nicky, turning him to face him and pulling the seat in close until their knees are touching.

“Nicolò, my heart, please. I cannot watch you waste away again.”

Again?

Nicky sighs. “One meal won’t kill me, Joe. I just... I can’t right now. It’s not a big deal. Just not today. Please.”

“You took care of us, Nicky. Let us take care of you.” Andy’s voice is as soft as Nile has ever heard it.

Nicky sighs. He opens and closes his mouth a few times before sighing again. Joe puts his hand up to Nicky’s face and starts rubbing gentle circles with his thumb.

“I still taste it,” he mumbles.

Taste what?

“Taste what?” Andy voices the question on Nile’s mind.

“The... the blood.” Oh. “I... today I...”

Today Nicky had jumped in front of several bullets that would have probably killed Andy (and in front of one that would have hit Joe, and another that would have hit Nile). The ones aimed at Andy, though, had hit him solidly in the chest and stomach. He had bled out quickly, coughing up red for painful moments until he went quiet. Nile cringes at the memory. He had died on his back while they were all still caught up in the fight, and he had come to only to choke on his own blood and die once more before Joe had been able to get to him, turning him on his side so that he could clear his throat and lungs and vomit up the contents of his stomach. There hadn’t been time to spare, though, so Joe had hauled him up the moment he was finished and dragged him along as they made their escape. In their rush to get away, and especially because Nicky had seemed so steady afterwards, Nile had forgotten about it. He had picked things out of Nile’s hair and patched Andy’s wounds and made sure they were all clean and fed and that they all felt _safe_ , and he hadn’t said a word about it.

Nile feels the breath rush out of her lungs as the realization hits her. Her eyes well with tears as she hears Nicky let out a choked sob. Joe immediately reaches across to pull Nicky to his chest.

Booker pushes away from the table, standing up. “I’ll go into town - maybe bread, things for broth...” Nicky shakes his head quickly at the latter. “Bread, then. As fresh as I can find it at this time of day.” Joe gives Booker a grateful smile. Andy gets up, picking up the keys, clearly intending to go with him. Booker shakes his head, holding his hand out. “You’re probably at least a little drunk, Andy. A veritable lightweight now that you’re...” He trails off, gesturing vaguely at her. Andy rolls her eyes, but hands over the keys without protest. She watches Booker leave before turning back to Joe and Nicky.

“Couch?” Joe nods. He helps Nicky to his feet and takes one of Nicky’s hands in both of his, pressing a kiss to his knuckles as they follow Andy to the couch in the alcove beside the kitchen.

Nile can barely see them at this angle, but if she cranes her neck she can just catch a glimpse of them tangled together on the sofa, Nicky pulled in tight to Andy’s side as Joe traces circles on Nicky’s arm.


End file.
